


It's Not Just a Band-It's an Idea

by ViennatheDachshund



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, My Chemical Romance References, Other, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 10:24:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13362654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViennatheDachshund/pseuds/ViennatheDachshund
Summary: A "My Chemical Romance" inspired Haikyuu AU





	1. Let's Go Back to the Middle of the Day that Starts it All

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank everyone at @haikyuuwriters for being so supportive and amazing. You all rock!
> 
> I also want to thank @amalasdraws, @kuckoonut, and @yankasmiles, who also have been a huge support.
> 
> Thank you all for putting up with my crazy, nonsensical fangirling when I was putting this AU together. I love you all! <3

“We’re here,” Kuroo’s mom said, pulling into the driveway.

Kuroo huffed in the passenger seat.

“Look,” she said, “I know you didn’t want to move, but can you at least give this a shot? You _know_ it took your father and I forever to get this house.”

“I know, but-“

“And it’s not like you’ll never see your friends again. Suzume even said Koutarou can even come stay over in the summers.”

“Yeah, but-“

“ _And_ you’ll make lots of new friends here, too. I know you will.”

Kuroo sighed. It was useless arguing with her at this point. He understood that his parents had wanted a house forever. He got that. It still didn’t make moving any easier.

“You wouldn’t have been with all your friends anyway, since you’re starting middle school,” his mom reminded him.

“I _know_ , mom,” he said, grabbing his guitar from the backseat. It still didn’t make it easier. He gathered the rest of things from the car and headed into the new house.

“You’re room’s the one on the left after you go up the stairs,” his mom said.

“I remember,” he said, already climbing the stairs. He truly did like the house. His room was spacious and had great acoustics for rocking out. However, something caught his eye now that hadn’t when his family had toured the house before. From his window, he could clearly see into the second-story bedroom of the neighboring house and sitting on the windowsill was a small cat figurine with golden eyes.

The eyes of the cat fascinated him and he opened his window to see if he could get a better look at it. That’s when he heard it. The most wonderful sound.

“Honey, the movers are here,” his mother said as he bounded down the stairs and straight out the door. “Where are you going?” she called after him.

“I’ll be right back,” he replied “I have to check something.”

Outside and on ground level he could hear it clearer. It was definitely coming from the house next to his. The one with the cat figurine. He walked between the houses and into the backyard of the neighbors. The sound was even closer now. It was flowing out the open back door. Kuroo knew he shouldn’t peek, but there was something about the sound that drew him in. No matter what the rational side of his brain was saying, he couldn’t stop his feet from moving to that back door.

He was glad his feet didn’t listen.

The noise was coming from a baby-grand piano and sitting at that piano was a young boy, around Kuroo’s age, whose face was obscured by his chin-length black hair. Kuroo watched on mesmerized as the boy played the piano. His fingers seemed to dance and his pale skin glistened like pearl dust. What really interested Kuroo, though, was the way the boy was moving. His whole body swayed as he played and it seemed as if the music was emanating from the boy’s body itself.

The boy ended the piece with a flourish and, without even thinking, Kuroo began to applaud. The noise made the boy jump, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards off the piano bench.

“Oh-oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you,” Kuroo said.

The boy looked up and Kuroo’s breath stopped. His eyes were like the cat’s, golden and with a gaze so intense it seemed pierce through Kuroo’s very soul.

“I-I’m your new next-door neighbor,” Kuroo stuttered as he pointed at his house. He almost added a “please don’t hurt me” but thought better of it. He didn’t want to seem like a total scaredy cat.

“Oh,” the boy said as he got up and brushed himself off “nice to meet you, I guess.” And just like that he turned into an unassuming young boy.

“You’re-you’re piano skills are amazing!” Kuroo said. “You would totally rock the piano part in Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“In what?”

“You know? Bohemian Rhapsody?”

The boy looked at him perplexed.

“Queen?”

“Queen of what?”

“Queen’s the name of the rock band,” Kuroo laughed.

“Oh...well I don’t really listen to rock...or anything other than classical music…” the boy said. “I don’t see what’s so entertaining about that…” he added shyly.

Was he...blushing? Wasn’t he just _intimidated_ by this same boy a moment ago? This kid was...certainly a mystery. A mystery Kuroo wanted to figure out.

“Well what a shame,” Kuroo said finally “but it also means you have a lot to look forward to. I’m going to bring you all my cds so you can have a proper introduction to rock.”

“You- you don’t have to do that…” the boy muttered.

“Nonsense,” Kuroo said, “what are friends for?”

“We don’t even know each other’s you _names_. How can we be friends?”

“Oh, good point!” Kuroo said. He extended his hand and grinned, “My name’s Kuroo Tetsurou. I’m your new next-door neighbor and I really want to get you hooked on rock music. Friends?”

The boy hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the screen door, undid the lock, and opened it.

“Kenma,” the boy said, taking Kuroo’s hand gingerly. “Kozume Kenma.”


	2. You're Not in this Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something about Kenma that just clicked with Kuroo...which is why Kuroo couldn't understand why Kenma was keeping secrets from him.

The first half of the school year came and went quicker than Kuroo expected. Much like his mother predicted, he made lots of new friends. However, none of them were as close to him as Kenma had become. Despite the fact that Kenma was a year younger and still in elementary school, despite the fact that Kuroo thought he was hiding something from him, there was something about him that just _clicked_ with Kuroo.

“Kenma! Kenmaaaaaa!” Kuroo called as he knocked on the back door, his guitar slung on his back.

“I thought I told you to call before you came over,” Kenma said opening the door.

“I couldn’t wait! I just _nailed_ the solo on Bohemian Rhapsody and I wanted to play it with you.”

“I haven’t even practiced it yet and besides I’m-”

“Yeah, but you don’t _need_ to practice it. You’re totally good enough to play it by ear.”

“Please don’t overestimate my abilities,” Kenma said blushing.

“I’m just being honest,” Kuroo said. “Will you give it a shot?”

“Fine,” Kenma sighed, “just once.”

Kenma planted himself at the piano and began to play. Not only did he play it, but he played it so perfectly that Kuroo missed his entrance.

“Ah, dang it, sorry,” Kuroo said “can we take it from the top?”

Kenma shot him a look.

“What? I said sorry,” Kuroo pouted.

“Fine,” Kenma said, taking a quick glimpse at the clock, “but after that you have to leave.”

“Rodger dodger!” Kuroo said as he saluted Kenma.

Kenma rolled his eyes, but Kuroo could see the small smile creep into his face as he began to play again.

Although Kenma was still new to rock music, he had fallen in love hard and fast.

“What are you doing?” a voice snapped when they were half way through the song. Kenma jumped up in the air and Kuroo spun around to see Kenma’s mom standing in the doorway.

“You’re _supposed_ to be practicing the pieces for upcoming winter recital, not this foolish rock music.”

Usually, Kuroo would say something about the “foolish rock” comment, but something else in that previous sentence peaked his interest more.

“You’re giving a recital?” he asked Kenma.

“Wait,” Kenma’s mom said “ _don’t_ tell me you didn’t send out the invitations yet.”

“I...forgot…” Kenma muttered.

“Great. This is just _great_. _Now_ who’s going to come? The recital is in a _week_.” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “Kuroo, I’m sorry but would you please leave. I have to figure out this... _situation_ , now.”

“Yeah, of course,” Kuroo said, his tone brimming with hesitancy. “Later Kenma.”

Kenma just stared at his toes, wringing the hem of his shirt in his fingers.

“Kenma, be polite say goodbye to Kuroo,” his mother demanded.

“bye…” Kenma said quietly, not daring to look up.

* * *

 

Kuroo was impatient the rest of the night. He fidgeted all through dinner and couldn’t sit still while watching TV. It wasn’t until after the clock hit eleven and the rest of his family was in bed that he could relax again.

“Kenma. You there? Over,” Kuroo said into the walky-talky.

The radio static popped and fizzed for a while. He was just about to press the talk button again when he heard a meek “I’m here” come in from the other end.

“Good. Don’t forget to add an ‘over’ so I know when you’re done talking, okay? Over.”

“Okay...over.”

“What was up with your mom today? Was she really that mad that you forgot to send the invitations? Over.”

Pop. Fizzle.

“Yeah…”

Fizzle. Pop.

“...it’s because I lied...over.”

“About what? Over.”

“About forgetting...over.”

“So you didn’t send them on purpose? Why?”

Crackle. Fizz.

“You didn’t say over...over.”

“Ah, shoot, you’re right. Sorry, over.”

Fizz. Crackle.

“You’re avoiding the question, though. Over.”

“I…” Kenma began, “I’m tired. Can we talk about it another time?...over”

“Yeah...of course. Over and out,” Kuroo replied.

He turned off his walky-talky and tucked it back under his pillow. Why was his friend keeping secrets from him?

* * *

 

The next morning Kuroo got the invitation:

> _Greetings,_
> 
> _You are cordially invited to the winter recital of pianist Kenma Kozume on Saturday, January 10th, at 11:00am. The recital will take place at Ishida Concert Hall located on 240 Ford Street. A small reception will be held in the foyer after the concert._
> 
> _Thank you for your support!_

Unfortunately, Kenma had continued to avoid him, even skipping their nightly eleven o’clock chats, so the next time Kuroo would have a chance to talk with him it would be right before the recital.

Except Kenma was nowhere to be found. Kuroo looked in the foyer, he looked in the auditorium, he looked backstage, but Kenma was missing. Finally he thought to check the bathroom.

“Oi, Kenma! Are you in here?” Kuroo called.

“Yes,” said a weak voice from one of the stalls.

“Finally,” Kuroo sighed in relief, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Your recital starts in fifteen minutes!”

“I know,” Kenma said “I’ll be there. You go on without me.”

“But-” Kuroo began.

“Just _go_ ,” Kenma demanded.

“Okay…” He turned to leave but stopped when he heard the sound of retching and vomit pouring into the toilet.

“Kenma!” Kuroo cried as he crawled under the bathroom stall.

“I’m fine,” Kenma said. He was sitting on the floor shaking. His arms were clutching his stomach and spit up was dribbling from his lips. He was most certainly _not_ fine.

“If you’re this sick there’s not way you can perform!” Kuroo yelled.

“Of course I’ll perform. Stop freaking out. I’m really fine-” With the completion of the sentence he began retching again, the tips of his hair getting splattered with sick.

“That’s it,” Kuroo said standing up, “I’m getting your mom.”

“No! Don’t!” yelled Kenma, grabbing Kuroo’s wrist.

Kenma's piercing golden eyes locked with Kuroo's dark ones.

“You don’t get it,” Kenma said “she _knows_. It’s _always_ like this.”

And Kuroo didn’t need any further explanation. He saw it. Behind Kenma’s tear-filled eyes he saw it; the pain, the desperation, the loneliness. At a loss for words, he did the only thing he could think of. He wrapped his arms around his friend and pulled him into an embrace, praying that his meaning came across:

_You don’t have to go through this alone anymore_.

And Kenma didn’t. Every concert, every recital, Kuroo was there. He would hold back Kenma’s hair when he threw up from the nerves. He would rub his back to try and soothe him. He was there every time Kenma said he would finally stand up to his mother and he was there every time Kenma couldn’t find the courage to do so.

And he was there the day Kenma finally found his voice.


End file.
